


Suffusion

by Moonfireflight



Series: The Abyssal Celebrant [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Aether Sex, Aether Sex (Final Fantasy XIV), Ascians (Final Fantasy XIV), Consentacles, Ending is sof because so am i, It's not terribly explicit, Other, Second Person Perspective, Soul Sex, gender neutral reader, hmmm choking sort of?, how do I even tag this nonsense?, inappropriate use of magic, now that's what I call eldritchfucking, porn? without plot, vaguely established relationship, vaguely lovecraftian levels of weirdness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:07:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21543499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonfireflight/pseuds/Moonfireflight
Summary: “How does it feel, warrior, to be inundated by my darkness?”“To be taken by an Ascian,” he hisses, his talons pressing hard into your hip and back. “Made subject to my will alone?”This is kind of an offshoot of my fic "The Speaker" but with a gender-neutral reader perspective. You don't need to read it for this to make sense though.I consent to the OTW terms of service and explicitly deny rights to reprint, share, or redistribute this work on any platform not owned by OTW. #
Relationships: Lahabrea (Final Fantasy XIV)/Reader, Lahabrea/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Series: The Abyssal Celebrant [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1601428
Comments: 11
Kudos: 75





	Suffusion

Even with the windows closed and shuttered, your usually cozy room is tinged with a pervasive chill this night. It’s the kind that sinks into your bones and is hard to shake loose without a fire in the hearth or a long, hot bath. Yet the shivers that chase each other in waves over your naked form speak more of the near culmination of a day’s worth of anticipation than something so mundane. 

He’s there and not there, the masked mage you’ve been developing a confounding relationship with over the last few weeks. Those now familiar black-gloved fingers that press between your shoulder blades, their clawed tips barely grazing your skin… they’re something you can feel and make sense of. The pointed hem of his robes playing at the back of your bare calves sends memories of other sleepless nights with your strange lover cascading through your mind. But that layer of clothing between you, as it so often remains, the lack of warmth filtering through the fabric, and the low hum of his aether waiting to be unleashed reminds you of just how otherworldly Lahabrea is. 

Your dining table scrapes across the stone for half an ilm as he wrenches you into place, your belly pressed hard against the cold wood. You tremble again as he leans into you, the cool fabric of the robes you’ve grown to adore now pressed against every part of you he has access to. In your periphery, you see his gloved hands splay over the surface of the table as he rests hard upon you, bracing himself. Though accompanied by no breath, you  _ feel  _ more than hear the words he murmurs against your ear. “Now, it begins.” 

He had given you no idea nor warning of what to expect, only stating that tonight would be different, though his tone seemed to carry a weight of meaning behind it that intrigued you. Being his subject and partner as he experimented with new ways to use his magicks to bring you both to new heights of pleasure was swiftly becoming addictive. The day had seemed to stretch on endlessly, keeping you from the night and Lahabrea, until at last, you are able to surrender to both. Your jaw quivers as you wait for some sign of what he has planned for you. 

After a long moment, the air in the room shifts, seeming to contract around you. Where it was still before, it pulses and breathes like a living thing as it molds itself to Lahabrea’s desires. Purple tinged shadows waver like flames before you, lapping over the edge of the table. You watch as they dance over his hands as well, clinging to each finger. His claws dig into the tabletop as he tenses and the flames retreat, sinking into his engendered form. 

Then you feel it. Though Lahabrea himself does not move, you sense his aetheric form expand, towering above you - that resplendent monster you’ve only caught glimpses of when the sun has fled from the sky and shadows flourish in the dark of your room. He takes full advantage of your position, your openness, and he  _ fills _ you. Your mind has only a rough idea of the physical sensations to pair with what’s happening, but it does it’s best to render a crude approximation as a thick tendril of dark aether sinks into you. Though your walls clench against nothing, the sensation of utter fullness is undeniable. Lahabrea’s talons scrape against the wood and he groans close to your ear as his aetheric form pulls back to thrust into you again. “Do you feel me?” he rumbles, his voice resonating through his flesh and aether, and therefore, within you. 

The intensity of it is almost overwhelming and you moan in satisfaction. 

He laughs low in his throat, clearly pleased by your answer. “ _ Good. _ Now, close your eyes and focus as I make you  _ mine _ .” 

Lahabrea’s sudden possessiveness thrills through you, setting ablaze your desire, fueling your endless fascination with him - you know no one else could terrify and satisfy you like he can. 

You close your eyes and with the little light in the room now shut out, you look within. Amidst the shimmering you’ve come to know as your aetheric body, you see it. A thick tendril, black tinged with purple running from dusty to royal - colors you associate with him, that herald his entrance and tease the air when he leaves you in the pre-dawn hours. It’s nestled deep inside your being, a softly pulsating darkness. 

The wild aether of his massive form shrinks down, seeming to click into place as his physical and aetheric forms align. There’s a clear sense of pressure as it lashes against the constraints of his expected form, wanting to bloom again into its full majesty. Talons skitter over the table as he stands, no longer resting his weight on your back. Gloved hands grip your hips, leather chill against your flesh. In all the room, the only source of heat seems to be the growing fire in your belly. When he pulls back, the tendril follows, nearly slipping out of you, only the tip clinging to your walls, flicking about in a way that makes you shiver deliciously. 

The table screeches against stone again as his hips slam against yours. The force of him crashing into you gives your mind more to work with and you can now keenly sense his aetheric cock sinking into you. “Now you  _ really  _ feel me. The very core of me, invading you.”

Your response is a shriek as the thing inside you swells, becoming thicker and longer, tapering to a point. By some mercy, amid the pleasure his penetration grants you, your mind gives you none of the pain you should be experiencing - were the appendage physical, it would have nigh destroyed you already. There is only fullness and a clinging chill that does nothing to quell the heat inside you as Lahabrea fucks you in his strange way. 

His next press nearly makes you lose your footing and his aether blooms once more. Its base is now far bigger around than a fist and you shudder at the thought. But still, there is no pain. The more you focus on the writhing shade within you, the more you  _ feel _ it, squirming and probing far deeper than your mortal body could take. “I can taste your fear,” he hisses, “and your delight. But this is yet nothing.” 

With a snarl, he crashes into you again. Your mind reels as in time with each thrust the thing inside you expands further,  _ branching _ out in ways that mimic nature, yet hint at arcane geometries beyond your understanding. Uncountable seeking tendrils wend their way through your form, pressing against your aether and twisting through it. Your moan is cut short as the tangle slithers over and through where your lungs reside - your mind utterly convinced that you must fight for air, leaving you gasping and convulsing against the table.  _ No! He can’t harm me like this! _ As your focus shifts to that thought, repeating it as a mantra, clinging to that tiny light in the darkness, you wrench your body back under your control, air filling your lungs as you pant from the exertion. 

Despite the insanity of his incursion, your body is aflame, muscles and aether both pulled taut as pleasure builds and courses through you. Your moans fill the room, mixing with Lahabrea’s hushed growls and groans. He pants, out of sync with his motions, his voice slipping into a language even your Echo strains to distinguish. Hearing him lose control like this, lost in whatever sensations his sorceries bestow upon him, enkindles you further. Though he doesn’t need to breathe, you’ve noticed him slipping into mortal tendencies in these rare moments where he’s lost to carnal needs. 

Bracing yourself against the table, nails pressing into its lacquered surface, you angle your hips up for him as you would to grant a wordly lover access to your depths. Your ardent gesture neither helps nor hinders the seething mass within you but Lahabrea rewards your eagerness with a clawed glove roving down your spine. You nearly come apart as leather and metal play over your shivering skin. “Can you handle more, do you think?” he asks, his taunting tone tempered by how tight his voice has grown. 

When you glance back at him and nod, he laughs, manic and sadistic, tentacles lashing in time to his mad cadence. You stumble a step and barely keep yourself standing as the table lurches another half fulm with his next thrust. The mass writhing inside you blooms once more, filling every ilm of your torso, coiled around and through your heart, your spine,  _ all of you _ . Purple-black burrows and claims as you whimper beneath him. It twists through you further, crawling up your neck and expanding into this new territory. You let out a broken sob and swallow hard as your throat clenches around nothing. Once more convinced of a threat to your life, your mind sends your body into a panic, waves of levin-like terror arcing down your back. Lahabrea doesn’t slow his assault, even as your nails dig into the wood, unsure of which will splinter first as you struggle for your life.

Though the sensation seems distant, you realize Lahabrea is running his hand over your back, slow and soothing even as he continues taking you. You hone in on those gloved fingers tracing your spine, your curves, and let it ground you. His sweet distraction gives you enough leeway to focus, breath entering your burning lungs once more. You cough as the air sears your throat. Once you begin to settle again you feel something cold drip down from the corner of your mouth. A faint taste of ozone and smoke lingers on your tongue, but you find no answers there. The dismay you’d managed to quell spikes briefly before diving back down into the roiling sea of ecstasy that is so close to overtaking you. 

Heedless of your confusion, Lahabrea growls and snarls behind you, slamming into you with renewed vigor. The delicious tension that had been slowly pooling in your belly and thighs snaps tight, teetering at the edge. “Ah… please…!” you cry, begging for anything he’ll give you. 

“How does it feel,  _ warrior _ , to be inundated by my darkness?”

“So… good.” 

“To be taken by an Ascian,” he hisses, his talons pressing hard into your hip and back. “Made subject to  _ my _ will alone?”

Your reply is a strangled cry as the pitch-black monstrosity filling you expands yet more, straining against the confines of your own aether. The pressure is immense, and there’s no part of your form that isn’t tangled with  _ him,  _ suffused by  _ him.  _ You open your eyes, no longer having the will to see so clearly what he’s done to you, but even your mundane eyesight is beginning to fade, grey around the edges. 

Teeth clenched, your muscles quiver as you try to convince yourself that Lahabrea cannot,  _ would not  _ hurt you but survival instincts override your attempts to quell them with logic. With no way to fight him off, your body struggles to expel the invader somehow, leaving you coughing violently. Your lungs heave with the twin exertions of keeping your legs from giving out and trying to breathe through his merciless incursion. To your horror, you feel more cold liquid dripping from your lips. Another cough splatters the wood surface in front of you with inky black sludge. 

He had given you a word to speak if your fears outweighed your pleasures and it hovers on your quivering lips as you stare at the tarry substance, icy rivulets of it running down your chin. Yet when you close your eyes again to shut out the sight, and once more see the undulating mass inside of you, focus on it, you understand. 

His essence slithers and seeks, caressing and entwining with any part of you that accepts it,  _ revels _ in it. The tenebrous core of Lahabrea is something he shares only with you, for you. The primal fear is still there, shivering through your body, racing through your veins, yet beneath it, through it, you find the undercurrent which you seek. 

“I asked you how it feels,” he groans, “to be filled by lightless ecstasy…” 

Your lips part and you drool out more icy ichor, your words bubbling out around it. “Beautiful… horrifying…  _ I want more. _ ” 

His leather-clad fingers rove over your body, sharp claws biting at your flesh. Your confession, and the proof that you could still end this if you need to with a word, unleashes him. He spins you around, causing the aetheric mass to churn and lurch through you - your mind simply can’t handle the twisting madness and you let your hold on consciousness go for but a breath, slipping beneath the surface. 

When your eyes flutter open, Lahabrea is mantled over you in the great canopy bed you often share. His hood is thrown back, his hair a tangled mess. A rivulet of sweat runs down his cheek from beneath the carmine mask. Between its carved fangs he grits his teeth, breath coming in rapid pants. He presses you into the position he wants, claws digging hard into your thighs, aether pulsing through you in time with his powerful thrusts. You’re quickly pushed to the edge again, trembling beneath and around him. 

His lips curl into a smile and with a dismissive gesture, one of his gloves vanishes. He drags his hand down your belly with deliberate slowness. Rather than the cold touch you’d expected, it’s as though his fingers are wreathed in ghostly flame. You squirm away from its intense heat at first but soon grow accustomed to it, and when he reaches between your bodies, letting you rut against him, the fire he’d been stoking all night reaches new heights, bringing you to your release at last. 

Heat gives way to a chill that dribbles between your legs and from the corner of your mouth as your moans and convulsions expel the substance from your body. Lahabrea reaches up, tangling his fingers through your hair, pawing frantically at you, smearing that icy ichor down your cheek and neck. You watch as he tenses, teeth clenched together between taut lips, before he throws back his head and moans long and loud, the sound broken up by gasping breaths. The tendrils of aether inside you coil and lash in fascinating new configurations, sending aftershocks of pleasure through you before slithering back into Lahabrea’s form. He slumps, barely stopping himself from collapsing on your chest, his mouth hanging slack as he pants above you. He utters something that can only be a curse, even if the words are lost to you. 

Shivers run through you at the sight, growing more intense as there’s a sudden overflowing of freezing fluid pooling between your legs and lapping at your inner thighs. You instinctively shift to get away from it. Lahabrea must notice your discomfort, because he moves behind you on the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you onto his lap. Just as soon as you glimpse the inky black splatters and stains on your bed, they are gone in a flash, and your lover pulls the now clean blanket up around your naked form. 

While there are questions that flit through your mind, none reach your lips as you settle against him. For once, you feel warmth radiating from him, soothing and comforting. Along with the blanket he’s tucked around you, you sense his aether settling about you as though you are enfolded in massive black wings. What once seemed a creature of nightmare barely restrained by his hyur-like form, now feels… soft to you - akin to feathers, or the peace of a clear night sky dotted with stars and filled with possibility - fathomless, but a reminder that you are safe and part of something bigger than yourself. 

He makes a contented noise, nuzzling against your neck. The brush of his nose along the hollow under your ear tells you he’s let his mask slip away. Though you long to turn and meet his shining eyes, you relax against his chest as he snuggles you closer to him in an unexpected show of unabashed affection. As your eyes close and you give over to the gentle exhaustion that washes over you, your sight turns inward once more. Just before sleep welcomes you in its sweet embrace, you glimpse glimmering starry motes of deepest purple pulsing and shimmering throughout the white expanse of your aetheric inner world, and marvel at how beautiful they are - how  _ right  _ it feels to have his mark upon your soul. 

  
  



End file.
